Alone in the Universe - All Our Times Have Come (1)

Alone in the Universe - All Our Times Have Come (1) - Printable Version

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Alone in the Universe - All Our Times Have Come (1) - Doctor Louis D'Ville - 07-27-2015

OOC - Part 3 of Alone in the Universe.

Part 1 - Alone in the Universe - Take My Hand

Part 2 - Alone in the Universe - Chasing Rabbits

"Before you embark on a journey for revenge, dig two graves."

â€• Confucius

Full circle . . .

The little girl took to the Doctor's little mirror trick better than he could have imagined. Much better than Mastermind did, that's for sure. The Doctor owes thanks to his befriended, bitter enemy, Master of Minds. The mirror did, after all, belong to him.

The Doctor is glad now at his failed attempts at destroying the thing. So he did what he's sure Mastermind wanted to do in the first place. Lock it up. Until he found a different opportunity, of course. It didn't take him long to realize that he's failed attempts in the past have always ended the same way. Not the same exact way, but similar. Trevor Dedntik's demise was his own fault. His addictions had the best of him. Instead of quitting them, he quit life.

Waste.

The Doctor figured he'd start fresh this time and give this one a little more care than the last. Already broken, fixable, but only fixed to an extent. The Doctor believed this young girl being the perfect candidate for his next project. She had a weak mind and a broken heart, but she had a strong soul. The Doctor could smell it. So then the mirror was simply used to suck any pretty bones left in her innocent little body.

Now go hate something.

Hate it so very much.

The little girl sits alone on a log in the middle of the woods, far, far deep into the woods. She ran that way shortly after coming-to just outside of a small house nearly in the middle of nowhere. It was the only thing she thought of to do, but it felt like that it was what she was doing in the first place. And kept doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. She forced herself to until she felt it was okay to stop. And by felt, the feeling of security returned to her and assured her it was time to stop.

She felt the urge to cry, but couldn't. She felt the same sadness and hatred as before, even more so, it seemed. But she's coming down from it. So she remains calm and stares into the darkness of the forest around her. She shivers for a moment and places her arms around each other for warmth. She's not dressed for an overnighter in the woods. Suddenly, she hears something rustling around in the bushes around her. Okay, she still feels fear, too. There it is. She shutters for a moment until she feels a warm hand on her shoulder. As she turns around to see who it could be, a large fur coat seems to fall from the sky and land across her shoulders. She slips it on immediately and snuggles with it. Inside the pocket is a couple packs of crackers and a small flashlight. She turns the flashlight on and shines it around the bushes around her. She watches a single pair of green eyes float away into the dense woods. She munches on the crackers slowly and awaits the next time she feels it's time to move.

Meanwhile, across town the reporter sits in her apartment watching the same video over and over again. Play, rewind, play, rewind. It's of the crime scene earlier in the day, but not her beginning segment when she first arrived, after that.

The camera fumbles around a few times in the camerman's hands before it sits steady on his shoulder. The police had everything blocked off and all of the media had to pile into one spot and await the detective to come out with his spiel. The camera focuses on the detective as he walks down the path towards them all, then pans over as he sees the reporter behind the police line running barefoot towards the detective.

It doesn't show much more. She shouts past them a few times, but the detective ignores her. The camera focuses and little better as she stomps her feet intoo the ground a few times attempts to spin past one of the officers. She's then grabbed with one arm and carried from the premises.

"I can't believe that asshole just sat there and taped that. Son of a bitch."

She looked at the chair across the room, where he pet cat was sitting, and spoke again.

"But, I think he got what came to him, too."

The cat meowed back at her.

"He got fired too, silly. I told you."

The reporter shut off her television and sighed as she sipped from a small glass of wine in front of her. The cat meowed once more and gave the reporter a nice long, tired blink. She smiled for a moment then sighed again. She lost her job today, a decent job. Something at she's worked for most of her adult life. She was on television. Something she'd always wanted to do. Her time as an anchor would surely boost her chances in Hollywood. Being transferred to a small shit town, as some would call it, as a field reporter doesn't though.

She reaches out to the table in front and pulls out a cigarette. She searches around a moment for a lighter and finds them in the pair of jeans piled up beside the couch.

"And it wasn't even because he filled me getting escorted by those pigs."

She takes another drag and continues to talk to the feline across the room.

"It was because he didn't catch any of what that detective said. What a douche."

The reporter scans the room and gets up from the couch. She lives on the fifth, and nearly top, floor of an apartment building. She calls it a condo to remind herself of the city life. It wasn't bad, it had a balcony. Which she spent many-a-nights like this one sitting alone out there. She shuffles across the floor and nearly trips over the pair of jeans lying there. After nearly a full bottle of wine, her ability to walk has decreased quite a bit. She laughs and slips the pants on and continues to shuffle and stumble her way to the back of the apartment to the sliding glass doors to gain access to her beloved balcony. She steps outside on the small porch and leans over the railing as she takes a few more puffs from the cigarette.

"The detective knows something he's not telling us."

She hears a deep raspy voice coming from behind her. She turns around and sees a dark figure squatting on a ledge nearby.

"Who is that?!"

The reporter exclaims as her voice trembled and nearly screamed out. The figure jumped down from the ledge and landed on awkwardly in front of the frightened girl. He stood a nearly six foot, and dressed like he was there to fight crime. Mask and all.

"What do you want?!"

The masked man took a step forward and covered the reporter's mouth. In his raspy voice and spoke again.

"The same thing you do. Justice."

He backed away from her and watched as she flicked the now dead cigarette off the side of the balcony. He watched the entire drop of the cigarette to the ground then looked back at the reporter.

"What you want me to go pick it up?"

"Don't give up on your story."

"I don't have a job anymore, creep. Get off of my balcony before I call the fucking cops."

"Did they produce a body from the crime scene?"

The reporter opens her mouth for a moment ready to shout at the masked man before pausing.

"I didn't see one."

"No one did."

"How do you know this?"

"Return to the crime scene. More answers lie there for you."

"Jesus........ What the FUCK are you?!"

"A friend."

The masked man drops a small smoke pellet on the floor of the balcony. A thick smoke pours out of it and spreads in the air and into the apartment. The reporter begins to cough and jumps in the door and slams it shut so hard that it bounces back and forth on it's track.

"Asshole!"

She yelled as she watched him stumble up the fire escape ladder to the roof.

Rise and shine, Clementine . . .

After feeling well rested, whether it was dawn or not, the little girl felt it would be best to begin moving on again. The woods were no place for a little girl, but she felt safe for someone reason. As if someone was watching over her. She was still a bit cold too, maybe if she was moving it would help to stay warmer. She stepped slowly through the woods, pointing her flashlight to the ground in front of her lighting her way.

Around a twenty feet diameter from where she walks, several coyotes circle the ground. The pant and whine as they lick their lips and gaze at what appeared a helpless little girl. Just ten steps behind her is the Doctor. Slowly mosing through the brush, watching over his new little friend as she trucks on through the most dangerous wilderness. One coyote from the pack must have forgotten about the Doctor and broke the circle. He approached the little girl without her knowing it, but before it reached even half the distance it fell over in the grass dead. Either it's pack brothers and sisters were smarter than him from the start, or took at as a lesson, but none of them attempted to come a hair closer to the scared little girl.

Hello, my friends.

Pleasure to see you all again. You guessed it. It's time for another session, folks. Now I'm sure I've said this before, but this could be my greatest session of all time. I'm not lying though. Perhaps, they're just getting better and better!

This one is for the ages. All of my favorite patients all together, standing in one circle, for the most coveted prize. My Universal Championship.

Jacob. Loverboy. Mister Harrison. You and I, gentleman, have a history in this organization going longer than anything else right now. Relentless marks one year that we all left our first permanent mark in this fine federation. Everything has gone full circle and here we are again. Main Eventing the greatest spectacle the XWF has to offer.

How did all of this come about? Well, I could partially be responsible. For months, no one has stepped forth and attempt to take the Universal Title from me. The last challenge that was proposed to me belonged to the Loverboy. His long awaited chance at the Universal Championship came to a shattering end at the hands of your's truly. He carried himself to another XWF event where his strengths and mind were most certainly absent. And someone close to him cost him, which would at the moment be, nearly a month of his life and still counting. One of Mister Lane's final memories before falling into this comatose, other than his dear fanboy, Thunderbolt X, was the fall he took to the Doctor.

His ongoing failure to be at the top.

Seems to be your life story isn't it, Loverboy? Oh, that's right, you can't hear me, can you?

It's funny how opportunities like this spring up at the worst times, isn't it? Our previous encounter was surrounded by the dreaded disappearance of your love's flesh and blood. And now, Mister MacClay thought it would be funny to stick his nose into business that doesn't concern him, just to make your life even worse.

I took it upon myself to come to the XWF World and call out to it. Searching for someone, anyone to step forth and give the Doctor something, anything to fight for. If he only knew it was going to be so easy.

It didn't take long for an old friend of mine to step forth and accept my challenge.

Gator has emerged once again, my friends! Ha! I wouldn't have settled for any less. For those of you who don't know. Jacob and I have the greatest history. We've faced each other twice and we each share a victory over each other. Could call it dead even, I suppose. Besides his forfeit in the King of the XWF Tournament and the cash-in... I don't count those, my friend, fear not.

The distance between the Doctor and the little girl grew greater and greater as they walked. She still had no idea of all the company she had out there in those quiet woods right now. Even the Doctor's little furry friends around the outside lost interest in what at first seemed like an easy free meal.

So anyway, as I said, Mister MacClay had to throw his weight around a little bit. As a way to attack Mister Loverboy even more, he kicks a man while he's down and throws him in the mix with Gator and I. The more the merrier I suppose, but I hate when things were just so thrown together as they were. Gator trying to relight the fire that I extinguished all of those months ago. Loverboy absent for the entire time, leaving his beloved Roxy Cotton to defend him, and of course, my dear Mister Harrison.

Mister Harrison. Just like most of my patients in the past, you have sprouted wings and are now able to fly away on your own. When we first met, you were a confused, lost, shell of a man. Tell me, how is it that I owe you any more thanks for our history here? Do you think I owe you everything?

Don't be silly.

You and I came together and we created a dominant force that still lingers in the shadows of this fine federation. The Asylum, believed to be dead, remains smoldering deep in the depths of the XWF. Tell me, friends. For what purpose would the Asylum need to be around at this point and time? During it's time the XWF was plagued with something that needed to be abolished. The Defiance. Four men that thought they had the XWF in the palm of their hands and when those hands were cut off, they had nothing left. And disappeared. With the biggest possible threat gone, my friends, the Asylum just simply went into a hibernation, so to speak. It make seem like we are naked of our loyal members, but don't be fooled. Once a fire is started, it can easily be spread just like it has done in the past. When the time comes, you will know it.

She climbs a bank and crawls on her hands and knees onto a wide dirt road. After dusting herself off, she feels it would be alright to start down this dirt road and maybe find a way from this wooded wonderland.

The Doctor hangs back a bit and let's the little girl gain some distance up the small road. He slowly climbs the bank and reaches the road. Judging by the sky, it will be dawn soon. A little girl wondering around alone on the highway will surely attract the attention of someone. Maybe he'll hang back a little longer and see what happens.

So from what I've gathered, gentleman. I'm the monster in this battle. I'm the target. I'm the enemy.

Jacob, Loverboy. You two can bicker back and forth about your tallies, or the lack of tallies, you may have against one another. You may claim you share a similar hatred for one another. You can't fool me. I know what your goal is coming into this Sunday. The goal is to take down the one being that nearly no one else has. Taking down the monster Doctor is the only way to free the stranglehold around the XWF and the stranglehold that, whether you wish to admit it or not, that I have around all of your throats. Right now, I'm the one with the last laugh. That goes for all three of you. For two of you, it's the gold around my waist. For the other, I suppose it's the control you claim that I've had over your for all of these months.

The Doctor shakes his head.

This all comes down to one certain vendetta against me and the relentless attempts to take me down. This is the week for it, my friends. I hope you bring your best, even if your still weak, or even still sleeping.

The detective stands in the bedroom holding a handkerchief across his nose and mouth. It's not that the room even really smelled, but the thought of what happened in here turned his stomach. The ceiling, the floor, the walls, the bed, the furniture... everything painted red. The first responders had already taken the precautions to preserve the crime scene, so the detective had a nice thin sheet of plastic to walk across to the center of the room. People in large protective suits were spread throughout the room, taking samples from different places and placing them in small tubes.

No body.

So the body was taken.

But how...?

It couldn't have been drug out. There's absolutely no sign of blood anywhere else in the house.

He's already been briefed before he came from the office. The details provided were horrifying enough, but seeing it added to it 110%. It's not that he had weak stomach, he's just not used to this type of thing. His jurisdiction around here stretches pretty far, it's a pretty big county. Regardless, no one has seen anything like this around here before.

The detective doesn't waste anymore time and leaves the house to head back to the office. On his way out an officer at the door tells hi about the media outside. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing he had to do it, but hated it every time. Especially when he had nothing to go with. He has a bloodbath, with no body, with no leads. Just a name and a residence.

As he walks down the small driveway towards the media, he hears shouting off to the left. One reporter went around to the side yard and was running across the field towards him.

Just great.

"Detective!"

The reporter shouts.

"Detective, please!"

Two officers have already stopped her and are escorting her away, quite easily. He can hear the rest of the meda-monsters simultaneously shouting questions at him. He holds one hand into the air and they all seem to shush at once.

"Police were notified at 6:05AM this morning of a missing person. The person was Ben Mandolin. His car was found abandoned approximately one mile east of the residence. The back door, which appears to have already been broken for quite some time, was pried open. While, we believe the victim of the foul play was the person of residence, we have yet to identify the body."

The detective stopped for a moment. Just long enough for one reporter to shout out.

"So there was foul play?! What type of foul play?!"

"Why is the body unidentified?"

"Do you have any leads?!"

A few more shouted.

"We have nothing more. More information will come in a report after a further investigation."

The detective wastes no more time and turns away to head for his car.